


An Unorthodox Cure

by ColetheWolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Breeding, Clothed Sex, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Kissing, Loss of Powers, M/M, Making Out, Minor Angst, Minor plot, Oral Sex, Passionate Sex, Sweat, love and sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 13:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13032093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetheWolf/pseuds/ColetheWolf
Summary: After Derek has been hit with a power-dampening hex, Stiles decides that the best way to deal with it is to help relieve some of Derek's stress.





	An Unorthodox Cure

**Author's Note:**

> For the Eternal Sterek Secret Santa 2017!
> 
> Happy Holidays!!!

Derek huffed out in frustration and ran his hands through his hair, frantically searching for a way to ease his restlessness. The long day had completely drained him and with the clock about to strike two in the early morning, Derek really wanted nothing more than to bash his head into a wall. There was no doubt that he physically looked just as annoyed as he felt on the inside. And yet, he continued to burn his retinas out by keeping focus on the screen of Stiles’ laptop.

Meanwhile, Stiles remained only a couple feet away from where Derek was sitting at the computer desk. He was laid out across his own bed, keeping himself as quiet as possible. Partly because he was actually fairly engrossed with the book that he was studying, but also because he knew that Derek was simmering and losing patience by the millisecond. The last thing that he wanted to do was deal with an explosive Derek.

“Fuck!” Derek shouted out, slamming his fists down onto the wooden desk—prompting it to let out minor splintering sounds. “This isn’t fucking working.”

Stiles sighed.

He closed the book that he was reading and stood up from where he was laying on the bed—sauntering over to stand behind Derek’s form. He momentarily leaned over Derek’s shoulder, just enough so that he could see what Derek was researching. The webpage browser was all loaded up with multiple opened tabs—all of which were pertaining to ancient curses, magical spells, and remedies for hexes. And given the magnitude of Derek’s outburst, it was obvious that he hadn’t been able to secure a remedy for the power-dampening hex that he had been struck with earlier in the night.

“Witch curse cures – how to stop being hexed – werewolf power-dampener spells – anti-hex spells—” Stiles read through the various tabs, holding back his own laughter at Derek’s attempt at supernatural research. “Derek, is this what you’ve been searching through all night?”

Derek rubbed at his eyes, shooting up from where he was sitting at the computer. “Yes, but there’s nothing on the damn internet about fixing this particular hex. I can’t feel my powers coming back. It’s just numbness. I feel—”

Stiles laughed. “You feel _human_ , Derek.”

“This isn’t some joke.” Derek stated firmly, turning around to face the bedroom door. He closed his eyes for a moment and attempted to figure out the next step of getting his powers back, but the frustration was almost too much to escape from.

“You need to relax.” Stiles said, grasping onto both of Derek’s shoulders with his hands. “It was an amateur witch who cast an amateur hex. You already know that hexes aren’t permanent or life-threatening. They’re meant to cause frustration and uncomfortableness.”

Derek breathed, rolling his shoulders into the touch of Stiles’ hands. “It’s this gnawing sensation that I haven’t been able to get away from. I’ve been this way for almost ten hours and I can’t get even make my eyes flicker colors.”

Stiles tightened his grip on Derek’s shoulders, working his fingers tenderly into the tense muscle. He pulled up closer behind Derek’s body, craning his neck downwards so that he could delicately press his lips against the skin of Derek’s neck. He could feel Derek begin to come down from his frustration and melt into an easy touch—like he always did. Werewolf powers or _no_ werewolf powers, Derek always loved a little de-stresser.

“You know, I can’t say that I’ve done this without my werewolf powers before.” Derek stated, turning around to face Stiles.

“Then I guess we better make it really good.” Stiles chuckled.

Stiles took Derek’s lips into a passionate kiss, letting their mouths crash together—unable to break apart for more than a couple seconds due to magnetic attraction. They continued to kiss, swallowing down all of the soft and small noises that each other would occasionally let slip from deep in their throats. Meanwhile, their hands explored each other’s bodies. Stiles’ hands almost always went directly to Derek’s abdomen and waist, whilst Derek favored pressing his fingers into the meat of Stiles’ backside.

Derek pulled away from the kiss, licking his lips. He grabbed Stiles by the shoulders and then carefully directed him towards where he would be able to fall backwards into the softness of a mattress. Derek pressed the palm of his hand into the center of Stiles’ chest with just enough force to make him topple back. He watched with peaked interest as Stiles landed with a bounce—legs obscenely open and hands gripped into the fabric of the sheets.

Stiles tracked Derek’s movement, expecting him to walk over and slot himself in-between where he kept his legs open. He thought Derek would bend down and take his lips back into a heated kiss, but found not one ounce of disappointment when Derek walked over and dropped to his knees instead—crashing down onto the wooden floor of the bedroom. He watched as Derek winced momentarily in pain at his knees striking down against the ground.

“That’s going to get uncomfortable after a while.” Stiles mentioned, sitting up just slightly. “Werewolf powers ease all your aches and pains, but trust me, human knees don’t take kindly to staying down in that position.” He grabbed a pillow from the bed and tossed it down to Derek.

Derek tucked the pillow under his knees and then pulled Stiles closer to the edge of the bed by his legs. From where he remained on his knees, Derek unbuckled Stiles’ belt—tossing it onto the floor—and then unbuttoned, unzipped, and tugged down Stiles’ pants. His own breath hitched at the sight of Stiles, already hard in the confines of his boxer briefs. Derek’s fingers practically itched with desire to touch Stiles.

Without hesitation, Derek trailed his fingers up Stiles’ legs and onto the waistband of Stiles’ boxers, pulling them slowly down, prompting Stiles’ cock to shoot upwards into the air. Derek sighed with desire, tentatively grasping his dominant hand around Stiles’ twitching girth. He always took time to marvel at Stiles’ respectable size—the length, the girth, the overall picturesque quality of what Stiles was packing. Derek knew that he could lose himself in Stiles’ heat.

Touching Stiles felt slightly different without having his werewolf abilities. Usually, _everything_ —every touch, smell, taste, and sound would be amplified with intensity. But this moment was different for Derek. Due to that hex, every sensation felt concentrated and more powerful. It felt easier to get lost within each sensation, due to the nearly overwhelming feeling of difference.

Derek gave Stiles’ cock a couple remarkable strokes, pressing all of the buttons that Stiles loved to get pressed. He added a subtle twist of his wrist as he stroked upward, and then dragged the pad of his thumb across the head of Stiles’ sensitive cockhead. Derek loved feeling Stiles’ body shake underneath his touch. He loved watching the way that Stiles’ eyes would momentarily become unfocused, like he was enchanted by the feeling of Derek’s hands.

Eventually, Derek bent forward and took Stiles into his mouth—delicately wrapping his lips around Stiles’ girth. Stiles groaned and slid the fingers of one of his hands into the softness of Derek’s hair, applying just enough pressure to set the rhythm to Derek’s bobbing motion. Derek seemed to take to the control nicely, becoming noticeably more enthusiastic as he bobbed up and down faster and increased the motion of his tongue.

Minutes flew by and Stiles could feel himself slipping—spiraling down into closeness of his orgasm. He desperately pat on Derek’s head and on his shoulders, halting everything. Derek pulled off with a lewd noise, the smack of his lips, and a slight groan of disappointment. But the sight of Stiles’ reddened face, sweaty hair, and overall appearance of delight made Derek’s body tingle with excitement.

“Couldn’t handle it?” Derek slurred, voice slightly hoarse from having taken Stiles into his throat for such an extended period of time.

“Aren’t there any other sensations you’d like to try out without your powers.” Stiles suggested, wiggling his hips suggestively. Derek only smirked.

Derek stood up from his knelt down position, kicked off his shoes, and then undid his own pants. He tugged them down—revealing that fact that he hadn’t even bothered with wearing boxers—and then stepped out of the confines of his pants completely. His thick cock protruded out into the heated space between his own body and where Stiles remained on the bed. Derek gave himself a couple pumps with his fist and then reached over to Stiles’ nightstand drawer, opened it, and pulled out the small bottle of lube that Stiles almost always kept handy.

In an orderly fashion, Derek reached out and grabbed his hold onto the pants and boxers that were still nestled around Stiles’ ankles. With force, he pulled the clothing free from Stiles’ body—leaving him with nothing more than the grey flannel that he had on. And with all of that out of the way, Derek squeezed a comfortable amount of lube onto a couple of his fingers, then reached down to rub at Stiles’ waiting hole—massaging the lubrication into Stiles’ heat for a solid couple of minutes.

“Derek—please.” Stiles breathed, grasping onto Derek’s forearm.

Derek stepped up to the edge of the bed so that he could stand solidly in-between Stiles’ legs. With one of his hands, he wrapped his fingers around the girth of his own cock, and then slowly pressed himself against the slickness of Stiles’ hole. Derek paused for a moment, pressing in and out, just enough to lull Stiles into a state of anticipation. And then without warning, Derek shoved inward—ripping out a rough gasp of surprise from Stiles.

A wave of heat washed over the two’s bodies. Derek had felt Stiles’ body immediately seize up in pleasure the moment that he pushed his cock into Stiles’ warmth. He exhaled out, closing his eyes, and letting his mind focus on the sensations—the sweet whimpered sounds of Stiles, the lewd slap of their skin slamming against each other, and the heat of their labored breath blowing out and striking one another.

Derek maintained a passionate, yet punishing rhythm as he rocked into Stiles’ ass. The bed creaked underneath their weight and it shook with their constant movement. As Stiles practically melted into the unwavering ram of muscle that drilled into him from above, Derek craned his neck down to whisper a barrage of filthy promises and compliments into Stiles’ ear, all whilst pausing at times to suck and kiss at the sensitive areas of Stiles’ neck.

“I want you.” Derek groaned, halting his thrusts to grind deep into Stiles. “I’ll always want you.”

Stiles threw his head back with a particularly loud shout. “And you—already know that I’ll always want you—even if you’re battling with being human for a day.” He laughed breathlessly.

Derek picked Stiles up into his arms and carried him away from where the two of them had been fucking atop the cushion of the bed. With Stiles hoisted up into the air, cradled in Derek’s capable arms, Derek graciously walked the two of them backwards until Stiles’ backside struck against the bedroom door with a sudden bang. They paused for a moment whilst Derek readjusted and then slid back into Stiles’ depth, eliciting an amorous grunted moan from Stiles.

Stiles wrapped both of his legs around Derek’s back, digging the heels of his bare feet into the werewolf’s lower back. The new angle felt different. In fact, Derek felt way deeper. As Derek started back up with his thrusts, Stiles felt his mind short circuit. He found himself utterly lost within the feeling of being weightless, supported under Derek’s strength. The fact that Derek was able to keep him elevated off the ground and pushed back against the door, even though he was experiencing performance issues in the werewolf department on account of the amateur witch’s hex, made Stiles’ own cock twitch.

“I want to cum just like this.” Stiles said, scratching his fingers along Derek’s rippling back muscles. “Keep going. Fuck my orgasm out of me. I want to feel everything that you have to give me.”

Derek tensed up at the words. He focused all of his remaining energy and force into carrying out Stiles’ directions. He pounded into Stiles’ hole as hard as he could—clashing the bluntness of his pelvis against where Stiles would already be sore in the morning. Derek’s hips moved unforgivably rapid, sending vibrations through Stiles’ body and sending sparks of pleasure up his spine—throwing his brain into a hypnotic mindlessness of heat.

“Fuck— _fuck_ —goddammit, Stiles.” Derek moaned, refusing to dial back his speed.

At the same time, Derek and Stiles cried out into the quietness of the room. Derek’s orgasm shook his body to the core, crashing over him like waves of electrified water, as his hips faltered in motion and his cock spewed heavily into Stiles’ body. Meanwhile, Stiles clutched desperately at Derek whilst his own cock fiercely pulsated from where it was squeezed up against Derek’s abdomen—coating the fabric of Derek’s sweaty shirt with jets of sticky warmth.

The two barely budged as they let themselves come down from their synced orgasms. Their foreheads briefly pressed together out of exhaustion as they caught their breath and let their heartbeats settle back. Stiles relished in the feeling of Derek’s cock feebly throbbing inside of himself, pumping out whatever last drop of cum Derek had left to offer up. Eventually, the two shifted—pulling their heads back just slightly enough so that they could stare at each other’s faces. Stiles watched without surprise as Derek’s eyes weakly shifted into a flaring, nonhuman shade of red.

“I guess we figured out your cure to the witch’s hex.” Stiles said, squeezing his legs even tighter around Derek’s body.

Derek leaned inward and took Stiles for another kiss, then pulled back off. “Come to think of it…I guess being hexed wasn’t _that_ bad.”


End file.
